Shattered Dreams
by Doctor Dizzy
Summary: Dreams are fragile things. The smallest blow can crush them into dust. With time and effort though, they can be rebuilt from scratch. This is the story of my shattered dream.


I always wanted to be a Pokémon trainer. Then again, what kid didn't?

I dreamt of the days I would spend with my team, wandering across the region, scaling rocky mountains, travelling across the seas, flying across the skies… you know, regular trainer stuff. I waited anxiously for the day I would be allowed on my journey… my tenth birthday. That would be the day I would receive my first Pokémon. That would be the day I would journey into the wilderness.

That would be the day I would start living my life on my own.

And so, the day came. I waited anxiously for the clock hands to reach five, so I'd get my first Pokémon. Why five o'clock? My parents were a bit… superstitious. They believed that if they congratulated me on the hour of my birth, it would be good luck for my journey. They did the same thing for my brother.

My brother, Michael, was my idol. He was older than me by about six years. And even though I was just five at the time, I still remembered the day he set off on his journey. At eleven thirty in the morning, he was already packed, smiling like crazy, receiving his first Pokémon. I still remember our mom hugging him like crazy, tears down her eyes, complaining how her "little Mikey" was leaving the house. I remember him groaning. He always hated when people gave him little nicknames.

After receiving his starter (I remember it being some sort of large blue whale, but my memory fails to remember anything else right now), he simply waved us goodbye and set off.

He kept visiting us during the important events, like our birthdays, or my first successful battle in school (with rental Pokémon, of course). He always showed us his team so far: a Hitmontop, a Houndoom and a Miltank were definitely part of his team, and they would spar occasionally for us. I dreamed of the day I could be like him.

Of course, that day had arrived, just like I said. Continuing.

Once the clock hit five, I expected my parents to barge in and start hugging me, crying how their little boy was leaving them, and how they'd miss him. But there was no such moment. Only the slight ticking of the clock was heard throughout the house.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. I had time to go upstairs into my room and double-check if I had everything ready for my journey.

It wasn't until an hour later that the front door was opened. I went back downstairs to find one shaking mother and one blank-faced father. In my mother's hand was a Poké Ball.

Once mom had seen me, she leapt at me and hugged me, trembling all the way, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a few agonizing minutes, my mother told me one simple sentence. And that simple sentence ruined my innocence forever.

"Y-your brother's gone, h-honey…"

* * *

I never went on my journey. My parents simply wouldn't allow it, not after what happened to Michael during his journey. Apparently, he got in the middle of a forest fire, trying to save wild Pokémon. Neither he nor his team survived.

For the next few years, I was homeschooled. My parents had been very concerned for my safety after Michael's de… disappearance (I'm sorry, but I can't even think of the word. It's still too harsh a reality to face), and outright refused to let me out of the house. My father kept working, and, since the money Michael usually sent us stopped coming in, my mother had to start working too. So, I was alone in our house all day, and, after home school, I was pretty bored. I was a bit shy, so I didn't make many friends. And the few I had abandoned town once they went on their journey. I didn't really have any company.

Well, except for the egg.

My parents had decided on a specific Pokémon they wanted to give me early on, but they could never find the species. Eventually they found it… in the form of an egg. Still, my birthday was coming up, and it was better than nothing, so they couldn't complain. They bought it.

The egg was pretty lively too. For some reason, it hopped around the house. I'm sure if Pokémon eggs aren't supposed to do that.

It was a pretty naughty and reckless egg, to boot. I caught it more than once trying to bounce out the windows on the second floor and once it nearly fell down the stairs. The thing just wouldn't stand still.

So, it was regular day at our house. I was reading a new book that my father brought me from the bookstore on the couch. It was one of the only things that snapped me out of my boredom. Every so often, I'd glance up from the book to the kitchen counter, where the egg was, just to see if it wasn't trying to commit suicide again, and once I confirmed it didn't, I returned to my reading.

One of those times though, I noticed that the egg seemed to crack. Then the shell started to fall apart.

It was hatching.

* * *

**Author Note: **Welcome to my first fanfic that doesn't suck on this site! *throws confetti*

On to more serious matters: If any of you are wondering about my update schedule, well... I don't have one. I simply post the chapters I have written (chapter 4 is in the making, just so you know) after they've been properly edited and proof-read... which takes a while for me to do. **However, if I ever get a beta, I should be able to update faster. **Emphasis on the key-word that is _should_. If any of you are interested, contact me via PM or Facebook, and we'll sort out the details.

DISCLAIMER FOR THE WHOLE STORY: Pokémon does not belong to me. The only things that do belong to me are the OCs in this story. Everything else belongs to GameFreak and Nintendo.

... Well, with that out of the way, please enjoy the rest of the story.


End file.
